The Moulin Rouge. A nightclub, a dance-hall and a bordello. Ruled over by Harold Zidler. It is the core of Paris' depravity and decadence. A kingdom of nighttime pleasures, where the rich and powerful come to play with the young and beautiful creatures of the underworld

(If you want to join. Please go here: http://tinyurl.com/4xcjdsd)Rules:1. NO GOD-MODDING! (jeez, we don't want ANYONE to control all of the shots around here)2. You may not use magic (You are a human) 3. Please follow the paragraph rule (It helps keep you not guilty and helps to advance the plot further)4. Please do sign-up in the thread above (You shall be ignored if you don't)5. Have fun (This is in the spirit of it.)

((Let's begin setting the plot up)) 1900, Montemarte District of France. Christian awakens inside his apartment. "What is love? What could it mean?" he asks as he looks out the window. He sees the Sacre-Couer cathedral and the Moulin Rouge complex below him. "I'll go to the Moulin Rouge, perhaps I can find love there" He heads down and eats his breakfast

Grace got off the train. It took a train, a boat and another train to get her here, but she had finally arrived. Paris. The city she had dreamed of for years. She picked up her bags and made her way to the Montmartre district. 'Alright, Grace, you made it. Now, you need food, and a place to stay.' she walked around the district, trying to find somewhere to eat.

As Grace walked down the streets, she realized she had no idea what she was doing. She needed help, or she might starve. As she walked, her mind wandered, and she ran into Christian. "Oh my god, I am so sorry!" she said in an American accent. She bent down to pick up her bags.

Grace takes her bags, blushing a little, "I'm sorry. My mind wanders at times. I've never been away from home before and I just- Oh I'm sorry, I'm rambling, aren't it?" she said, tapping right heel, her nervous tick. She looked at the ground, blushing a little more.

"Ah, that is something I can say... it is a nightclub, a dance-hall and a bordello. Ruled over by Harold Zidler. A kingdom of nighttime pleasures, where the rich and powerful come to play with the young and beautiful creatures of the underworld. I've seen some acts from there before" says Christian

Grace blushed a little bit. "I'm-I'm not sure if I'm old enough to work in a place like that." she said, picking up her bags again. "I've never been in a nightclub before, so how could I know how to work in one?"

Christian opens his room. Inside is his bed, closet, dining table, storage closet, bathroom, poetry writing table with a typewriter and his coat and long sleeves in a hanger. "Welcome Ms. Grace, to my humble abode." He sets her bags down near where his are.

"A month dear Ms. Grace" he says grabbing some corned beef from his closet "I've been trying to find love. Yet I've never been in love. I've been writing poetry about it and soon, once my poems are done..." he stops to open the can and get some rice. He sets the utensils and dinnerware down. He grabs some water too. "I'll publish it around so someone can appreciate my work."

"Thank you Ms. Grace." says Christian opening his also and grabbing some typewriter paper. "You're the only person who said that as of now" he says putting the papers in and writing the Elephant Love Medley. "Eat up Ms. Grace. I prepared your meal"

She stopped eating and started to tap her right heel, "Well... adults kind of... kind of scare me. Well not scare me, but... they intimidaite me... I know it's weird, but... I'm not sure if I can." she said shyly.

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